Just as Bad
by Marisa Hiyama
Summary: He'll find me; I know he will. I can't run from him anymore. Rated T for character death and potential gore. This is Dark!Hetalia. You have been warned :)


_He'll find me; I know he will. I can't run from him anymore._

She recognised the sounds… The scrape of metal on brick… The desperate cries and shrieks… The drip of blood… The ripping of cloth… The laughter. The terrible laughter. The sound she had once loved, echoing through the tunnels, waves ricocheting off every wall. She screamed in silence as she watched the frantically dancing shadows flickering uncontrollably as he groped around the corner of the candle-lit brickwork for imperfections and hand-holds, staggering like a sick drunkard. He turned his head towards the petrified young girl quivering helplessly behind a taller, brown-haired man in the corner of the room.

"I found you…! I knew it! I knew I could track you down wherever you went! I told you!" he rasped, stumbling towards the two figures, slipping in crimson liquid. The other man boldly dared to take a step forward while drawing a glinting dagger from his leather belt.

"You'll have to get through me first," he said with a strong Austrian accent, arms out to the sides in order to shield the young, terror-stricken female tugging at his jacket.

Trembling in fear and sorrow, the girl weakly pleaded into the night for the two to stop. Everything in her vision blurred. Crashes, clinks and bangs erupted from the weapons of the men duelling when a sudden splash of scarlet startled her even further, rendering the smaller nation blind for a few seconds that continued for eternity. Those few seconds were apparently just enough for something to happen. As soon as she wiped the dreaded liquid off her face, she knew instantly that something was wrong. Something oh so very wrong. She could just make out that one of the figures had disappeared… Fallen. She clutched at her chest as her heart shattered like a thousand tiny shards of broken glass as her green eyes, glistening with tears, took in the horrific scene before her.

"N-NO!" she screeched, falling limply against the perpendicular walls with a dull _thud_. Her ex-husband, who she still held dear, was dead. Gone. No-one could save her now. She waited, gasping for air, for the impact of steel inside flesh. No event of the sort occurred, however; just an unexpected shove to the shoulder blades which pinned her against the cold, hard surface behind. Not caring anymore, the brunette let go of the will to live and allowed her frail body to flop. The male nation pushed his skeletal figure up against the girl, sharp, psychotic gaze piercing her smashed, bloody soul. He continued on to claim carelessly, "He'd only get in the way of our relationship. A waste of space, that's what he was. I only killed him because I love you."

_She's so damn warm… I love it…_ the sinister voice inside his messed-up head cackled with evil joy.

A surprised and somewhat sad, muffled cry escaped from the younger's dry lips as the other stroked the side of her close-to-expressionless visage tenderly, as if he had never murdered any living soul in his life. After muttering eerily, "You're so beautiful" over and over and over and _ove_r again, he pressed his blood-stained face against hers and pulled her into a tight, even _loving_ embrace. Alas, but of course, the stoic female acquiesced, letting her lips and tongue be played with as she managed a barely noticeable grimace at the slip of mouth on mouth. The sensation she used to cherish and enjoy, now a horrible, rough, minority that she took no notice of.

_What happened to those happy times when the two of us played together in the bright, comforting sunshine? Those happy times when we strolled down the path by the lake, holding hands? Those happy times when I could look him in the eye and smile?_

Back then, that kiss meant something.

Eyes streaming from desperately attempting to recall lost memories, she shoved her boyfriend away with surprising force, consequently causing him to trip backwards over Austria's fresh corpse. Torn and tattered grey cloak drenched in innocent blood, the recently-named psychopath quizzically held his sharp chin in his hands, slashed with the very same metallic-smelling liquid.

"What's the matter? If you're scared of anyone walking in and taking me away from you, you don't have to worry. I've made sure no one can interfere with our love anymore," he said casually, picking himself up off the alleyway ground with the usual smirk.

"Don't come any closer, you manipulative _b*st*rd!" _she yelled furiously. Her miraculous regaining of strength shocked the twisted being blocking the now sacred exit that she yearned for. Grabbing the nearest random object, the young girl advanced, brunette locks whipping around as she ran. Skid of boot in red. Just enough of a delay for a pair of muscular arms to grasp her as she fell to the floor.

"You don't mean that… Let me protect you and we can rule the world together. You can be my queen and I'll adore you for eternity! You'd love all th-"

"No."

"Eh?"

"No! I said no, damn you! Go to hell, you monster!"

With that, she thrust the rejected railing into his chest repeatedly. _Splish! Splash! Shhhing! Splish! Splash! Shhhing! _ Precisely 25 times, but he was long dead by number 6. He dropped, lifeless. She watched her lover fall with eyes as wide as a rabbit's in headlights.

The terrifying bang of railing on pavement shattered death's silence.

"Oh God, what have I done?" the remaining nation cried, her vision shifting briskly from her makeshift weapon, to her blood-soaked hands, to the new body face-down on the ground. "I'm just as bad now! I'm just as bad! I'm just as bad! I'm just as bad! I'm just as ba-!"

The echoing sound of hurried footsteps interrupted her grieving. She looked up and her verdant eyes met the startled emerald gaze of a certain Englishman.

"It's not how it looks! I'm begging you, just please listen to me! It wa-!"

"So it was you. All the killings. Everything. And I didn't once suspect the 'sweet, innocent little Hungary'. Not one bloody time…" He swiftly pulled out a well-used mobile phone, punched in three numbers in quick succession and lifted it to his ear. He then said one word. One word that could change which direction Hungary's life wandered in: "Police."

She shook her head; it was understandable, certainly. Just not correct. "I'm just as bad," she whispered, contemplating the heavens. "I'm just as bad as you, Prussia."


End file.
